The 7 Kinds of People You See at Every Brunch
From the constant Instagrammer to the awkward post-Tinder couple, you know these folks will be waiting at your next brunch
You know the feeling. It's 11 a.m. on a Saturday, you're seated in an airy backyard or crammed into a booth awkwardly, awaiting your order of Eggs Benedict or bacon and pancakes, people watching as your hangover gently subsides. And at every place, no matter if you're in Brooklyn or Birmingham, Austin or Kansas City, you seem to see the same kinds of brunch-goers. Here, a taxonomy of the types of brunchers you see wherever you eat.
The One Who Can’t Decide
Yes, it all looks very good. Ugh, I know right? Sweet or savory, such a big choice—pancakes or Denver scramble, what a toss-up! But the waiter has come back six times asking if we’re ready to order and every time you’ve said you “just need a few more minutes.” It’s been 19 minutes. Nineteen. That is more than a few and you need to make a choice. There are fewer than ten items on this menu. Just say eggs Benedict and let the rest of us finally eat.
The One Who Can’t Decide is also notable for calling the waiter over after the order has already been placed. “Is it too late to replace the Hollandaise sauce for Béarnaise?” She says through a faux-embarrassed grin. “And the wheat toast instead of rye?”
No matter what she ordered or how many subsequent changes she made, she will still look at whatever you got and give a very exaggerated sigh, moaning about how she ordered the wrong thing and passive aggressively hoping you’ll switch. I will NOT switch, Lena. I waited 26 minutes to order my French toast and I will eat it myself goddammit.
The Hungover Waiter
He has to be here and he hates it. Why did you need to order water and coffee and juice? You realize that’s just three things for him to carry right? He might give you decaf just out of spite.
The One Who Needs to Instagram Everything Perfectly
If a brunch occurs without a single Instagram, did it actually happen? This person will never find out.
“Hold on,” she’ll say when the food reaches the table, before you even take a bite. And she’ll stand to get the perfect vertical angle of the entire table.
“Now can I eat?” You’ll ask.
“Hold on, just a few more.” Once she’s done taking enough pictures for a Vogue editorial shoot, she’ll need to spend the next half hour picking the right filter. So I hope you like eating alone while the person you met across town for brunch decides between Crema and Rise.
The One Who Gets Too Drunk
Bottomless mimosas are a trial delivered unto us by our Lord to test our self-control and foresight to avoid a hangover by 4 p.m. This is the friend who fails every time. At a proper brunch location, a bottomless mimosa policy will include a fastidious enough refill system that, indeed, the bottom of the glass is never reached. Which means technically your friend hasn’t even one glass!
Remind them that when the check comes and they try to tip $120 because Amy Schumer did that they think that’s what the news said ugh I’m soooo drunk who wants to just like, keep this going? Bar? Anyone?
The Après-Third Tinder Date
Half a generation ago, one might expect to see an awkward one-night-stand pushing scrambled eggs around the plate and silently wondering at what point in the meal they’re supposed to ask what the other person’s last name is.
With the price of brunch these days, the best a one-night-stand can hope for is a Clif bar they stole from a roommate’s shelf. No, brunch is reserved for a couple that met on Tinder that still hasn’t decided whether or not they’re at the stage where they tell their friends they’re hooking up with someone. They’re eating a meal together, but this relationship could end at any time with one of them just deciding not to text back.
The Parents Who Are Just Visiting
In Minnesota or Oklahoma or wherever they don’t have brunch like this. This is fancy. You mean I can get eggs or a salad? Honey, what’s frisee? The parents are too absorbed in the sheer variety of smoothies available to notice their black-clad NYU sophomore scowling as obviously as he can. Ugh, Mom, do you need to replace literally every single item in this omelet? If he scowls obviously enough, then the rest of the restaurant will know that he’s judging his parents too. He totally gets brunch. Even if he can only afford $16 when his parents are paying.
The One Who’s Been Up Since 7 a.m.
She’s already taken a yoga class, done laundry, cleaned her apartment, showered, and still made it to brunch ten minutes before you. This is lunch for her and she wants you and everyone else within earshot to know.